


Silence Isn't Golden

by Summer_Story



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Gen, John is now a mute, Post-Reichenbach
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-18
Updated: 2012-10-18
Packaged: 2017-11-16 14:02:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 449
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/540229
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Summer_Story/pseuds/Summer_Story
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock is expecting shouting and anger and words flying when he returns to John.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Silence Isn't Golden

**Author's Note:**

> This is a fill for a prompt over in the Kink meme. (I think?) And if it is, I am no longer in possession of the link. This is also a possible work in progress. I just not sure about continuing it yet. Also, while at the time I wrote this, I was heavily researching about mutism, I have forgotten most of it now. So I apologize if this isn't right.

Sherlock is expecting shouting and anger and words flying when he returns to John. He expects the rage on John’s features, expects the punch that knocks him into the table. What he doesn’t expect, and he had put it off at first for John just being that angry, is the silence.

He is _silent_.

Completely and utterly silent. Even after Sherlock corrects himself and moves to speak, John makes no noise, only contorts his face to express his anger and relief and pain. Not that Sherlock has trouble reading exactly what John is saying. John’s face was always so expressive.

It’s a week later, and John still says nothing. And Sherlock feels like he’s going to go crazy. He’d always moaned about people _shutting_ up. But never, never, had he imagined it being so silent.

He _misses_ John’s voice.

Misses the nagging to eat, and sleep.

John still nags, but it’s quiet looks and plates and cups of tea pressed into his hands.

Sherlock doesn’t leave the flat until now, because he thought he’d be okay with coming back to John, but he’s not. It’s maddening. So he goes down to Mrs. Hudson and gets her sharp smack to the face before being pulled into a hug. She sits him down for tea and gives him a small, sad smile, because she knows why he's came to visit.

“It started slow. John not talking. At first I thought it was because he just couldn’t find a way to express his emotions. But it just got worse. Then one day, he just didn’t talk. Started carrying ‘round a note pad with him when he went out to do things. Had to learn a bit of sign language on the days he’d forget his pad and pen.” She tells him and Sherlock heart hurts because Mrs. Hudson continues on. How John hasn’t laughed in a long time, only smiles. And when he still cried, it was silent sobs.

Sherlock stands. Can’t stand it anymore. And runs away from Mrs. Hudson, the flat, the silence, and John. He walks. Walks the familiar, _noisy_ , streets of the city he so loves.

When he returns, John is seated in his chair, relaxed and a book in his hand and Sherlock decides to go on instincts and moves to sit at John’s legs, watching the fire before him. He knows John is asking what he’s doing with his expression. But Sherlock ignores him. Ignores the shift of John’s legs. It’s when he hears a small disgruntled noise that he cocks his head and looks back at John who’s blinking owlishly at him.

Sherlock will mark that as a win, no matter how small it is.


End file.
